


The (Mis)Adventures Of Captain H J Becker

by knitekat



Category: Primeval
Genre: Bingo, Gen, M/M, POV First Person, Pirates, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-21 05:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16570928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitekat/pseuds/knitekat
Summary: When Quinn upsets Lester, he and Becker are sent off to an oil rig to investigate an anomaly alert.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to fififolle for the beta.

I looked up from checking my favourite shotgun, Vera, when the office door opened, allowing the wind and rain in. I leaned forward to shield Vera from the worst before looking up to see Quinn looking as if he'd been dragged through a hedge before being dumped in a pond. “Everything OK out there?” I enquired as I watched a drop of water drip down Quinn's nose and splash with a ping onto the metal floor. 

“It's pissing down and I'm soaked to the bloody skin,” Quinn groused. “If anything came through that anomaly Temple might have detected, it'll have pissed off back home.”

Any sympathy I might have had for the ex-copper vanished when he gave himself a shake and a droplet of water landed on Vera. I used the sleeve of my combats to wipe the offending drop off before burnishing the spot with my cleaning cloth until it shone. “We still needed to check it out,” I replied before turning my attention back to Vera, she had never failed me, and I smiled when her action slid smoothly. I looked up at Quinn when he made a strangled sound and raised an eyebrow in concern, the last thing I needed was an ill man out here. “Are you OK, Quinn?”

“Never better,” Quinn replied before quickly changing the subject. “I still don't see why we're here. It's a bloody disused oil rig in the middle of the North Sea, what harm could a creature do out here?”

“Because if it's amphibious it could move to the mainland,” I pointed out. “And there is a crew due in a month to start dismantling it.”

“Yeah,” Quinn reluctantly agreed. “I still don't see why Lester sent us though. There could be an incursion back home we're needed for.”

“Because,” I began patiently, “Someone, Quinn, decided to check security even when they knew Lester was getting a migraine.”

“I was sure I had a way in you hadn't thought to cover,” Quinn said.

I shook my head when he almost reminding me of my nephew when he'd been caught up to no good. That was not an image I wanted and instead I almost snarled back at him. “Which is why you set off the alarm and ended up with my shotgun in your face.”

“Fine.” Quinn raised his hands in surrender. “I made a mistake and Lester's punishing me for it, why are you here?”

“Because someone's got to keep an eye on you,” I muttered back. Even though I knew Lester was punishing me too, why else would I be babysitting Quinn? We couldn't even leave as the helicopter had flown off after dropping us off in the middle of nowhere. It almost reminded me of my training, but at least that had more people on it then my useless shower of men and Quinn. 

“I'd have preferred to clean out his bloody pet mammoth.” 

“I doubt he trusts you with his bloody pet mammoth, not after what happened last time.”

“That was an accident,” Quinn defended himself. “How was I to know it wouldn't agree with him?”

“By asking Abby?” I suggested, shuddering as I recalled that incident. Quinn was bloody lucky Monty made a full recovery otherwise he would have had both Lester and Abby after his head. 

Quinn opened his mouth to say something, but I never found out what it was as my radio crackled. “Report!” 

_“Matthews, sir.”_ the radio crackled again, making it impossible to hear my man report. 

“Matthews? Repeat your message,” I ordered. “Matthews?”

“Becker?” Quinn asked, only for me to raise a hand to stop him. 

“Matthews? Report!”

_“Sorry, boss,”_ Mathews finally responded. _“I've got movement down here.”_

“Damn it!” I snapped. “Where are you Matthews?”

_“Bottom habitation level, boss,”_ Matthews replied. _“I can hear voices, sir.”_

“Voices?” Quinn said. “I thought this place was deserted?”

“Apparently not,” I said. “Matthews, I'm sending backup. Observe but do not interact with our guests.”

_“Yes sir,”_ Matthews replied. _“On...”_

“Matthews!” I almost yelled into the radio. “Answer me, damn you!” The only sound was more crackling before I ordered my men to regroup and meet me in the canteen.

***

I shuddered slightly as I opened the office door and stepped out onto the grating, silently promising Vera a full overhaul once we returned home. The wind whipped around me and I hated to think what my hair would look like. I shook my head, trusting to my hair products to keep it from looking like Quinn's rat's nest and grabbed the handrail as I made my way down onto the deck. I could hear Quinn on the stairs behind me until he suddenly stopped.

“Becker!” 

I turned, wondering what was wrong now, when I realised he was pointing frantically at something even if the wind was taking his words. I followed his excited pointing and closed my eyes, blinking to clear them but the view hadn't changed. There was a ship anchored at the base of the rig and it looked like something out of a bloody Hollywood movie. From the skull emblazoned on the black sails I noticed just before the crew lowered them, I had to assume it was a pirate ship. Well, that answered who Matthews had heard and who had my man. Bloody pirates!

I heard Quinn come down the stairs to join me, his voice excited as he declared, “It's a pirate ship!”

“I can see, Quinn,” I barked back before continuing to head down to meet my men, my mind whirling as I came up with options to deal with the pirates. At least they were men who I hoped I could reason with. “Come on, Quinn!” I yelled when I realised he was still watching the pirate ship.

***

I made my way towards the canteen, Quinn dogging my steps, when I paused at the sound of gunfire – both the sound of single shots which I assumed came from the pirates' weapons and the sharper rat-tat-tat of modern weapons. I clattered down the metal stairway, heedless of the rain or wind or that I might encounter pirates, I had to find out what had happened to my men.

I burst into the canteen and cursed when I realised the men I'd sent after Matthews weren't present. I glanced at the rest of my men, unsurprised to discover they were all nursing coffees and looking at each other nervously. I wondered who the hell I'd pissed off to be lumbered with them as well as Quinn, not that that was important right this moment. 

No, finding out where my bloody men were and getting them back was. Still, first steps first, especially as I had no idea if my men had won their encounter with the pirates. What I needed most was intelligence, which left me in something of a quandary. I had no wish to leave my men to their own devices but I was also unwilling to trust scouting to either Quinn or my shower of men. While I considered my options, Quinn chimed in that he had done hostage negotiation as a copper, however on closer investigation, that apparently meant he'd attended a course on it. I could only hope he didn't attempt to use it and make a bad situation worse. 

In the end, I compromised and took my men and Quinn with me; they'd do me no good up here if I did run into any pirates. Still, I left them at the bottom of the staircase, under cover and with excellent sight lines – if they paid attention – and continued on alone to scout out our opposition.

***

I moved slowly across the deck towards the dock being used by the pirate ship. I used all my training to move silently and as swiftly as I could, using the pipes as cover as I made an oblique approach. I cursed under my breath as I counted the number of pirates present, knowing that there had to be more of the ship I could just make out bobbing on the waves and that we were outnumbered, at least numerically if not technologically.

I turned to make my way back to my men, my mind already churning with possible plans, when I kicked something which skittered over the deck. I froze at the noise, holding my breath as I sought any sign that my presence had been noticed. I relaxed when it appeared my luck had held, only for some instinct to have me diving to one side. 

I heard the sound of metal clanging on metal as I rolled to my feet, Vera held protectively in front of me, and found myself face-to-face with a pirate. I balanced on my feet as I took the measure of my foe. He was older than I was, with a weather-worn look and a livid scar cutting deep into the left side of his face, taking the eye and twisting his toothless grin into a snarl. I moved backwards to open up space between us and felt my boot knock into something. The pirate's eyes hardened at whatever it was and I risked a glance downwards, frowning when I realised it was a cutlass.

“What ye done with Tacks?” the pirate demanded as his cutlass blade slashed towards me, causing me to twist and duck away, feeling the movement of air from its passage. He swung at me once more and I had no option but to parry with Vera, wincing as the blade scraped on the barrel of my beloved shotgun and I knew I'd be burnishing her once I was home. 

The pirate advanced towards me, his toothless grin growing as his cutlass moved constantly as if seeking a weakness in my defence and I knew he'd have no problem running me through with it. I, on the other hand, had no wish to shoot him and blamed too much time spent in Cutter's company on numerous Shouts. Cutter must have driven his obsession with not changing the timeline into my subconscious. That and who knew whose ancestor he might have been or what other effect killing him might have on the bloody timeline. 

Still, the more time I spent sparring with the pirate meant the chances of someone hearing and investigating increased. Good news if it was my own men, but I was far nearer to the pirates. I waited for him to strike at me once more, ducked inside his guard and used Vera's butt to knock him cold. I fished into my pockets, pulled a couple of cable-ties free and bound his wrists behind his back, stuffed his disgustingly dirty neckerchief into his mouth and dragged him into a cupboard. It should keep him out of the way and out of trouble.

***

A commotion had me abandoning my original intention of re-joining my men and instead I crept back towards the dock, keeping low and to the shadows beneath the piping which ran across this part of the rig. I cursed when I saw the men I'd left with Quinn on their knees, guarded by a motley rag-tag group of pirates. I couldn't make a move on them, not with the number of bared blades and black-powder pistols pressed against throats and heads. I did a quick head count, noticing that I had lost Quinn from those present.

Bloody hell, I really couldn't leave them alone for one minute without them getting into trouble. All I could hope was that Quinn didn't try anything stupidly heroic, but then, this was Quinn I was talking about. I was considering my now limited options on how to end this situation without bloodshed and frantically trying to remember anything I could about pirates, when a spitting-mad Quinn was dragged into view. I almost showed myself when I noticed the cuts and bruises on Quinn's face, those bloody pirates had hurt him, but I knew being captured wouldn't help anyone.

A black-haired man wearing a fancy gold-embroidered frock coat stepped up to a struggling Quinn and grabbed his throat. His voice carried to his men and to my ears. “Are ye the scurvy-dog who's been picking us off one-by-one?” He shook Quinn when the ex-copper stubbornly refused to answer. 

I frowned at the, I assumed, pirate captain's words. Something had been attacking his men as well as mine. I swallowed and looked around, knowing that something else had come through an anomaly other than these pirates. Something that was taking us out one-by-one and I knew there was only one way to stop it. Assuming this idea didn't backfire on me, that was. 

I made my way back to the cupboard, grabbed the now recovered pirate and hauled him to his feet. Using him as a shield and hoping his colleagues didn't dislike him, I stepped into view and yelled out, “Parley!” I had no idea if pirates actually had a rule for parley, or even if they parleyed, I could only hope that Pirates of the Caribbean had been somewhat accurate in that regard. 

“That's Jeb!” One of the pirates called out, his pistol rising towards me and my prisoner, presumably Jeb, before the pirate captain knocked his aim off. The shot went somewhere over my shoulder. 

“So, ye be the scurvy-dog who's been taking me men.”

“No, captain,” I replied. “Only this one and he attacked me first.” I took a deep breath and then a chance, cutting Jeb free and pushing him towards his crew. “I just want to talk.”

“Aye?” 

“I've lost men too,” I said. “There is something else here hunting us.”

“And ye expect me to believe ye?” the pirate captain growled. 

“Yes,” I replied, ignoring the faces Quinn was pulling behind the captain's back, although I assume one of the pirates didn't from the muffled omph Quinn gave. “I suggest we work together to stop whatever it is.”

The expression on the captain's face showed he didn't believe me, hell, in his place, neither would I. I wondered if I could reach cover before any of his men could shoot me, when I heard a strange noise, a kind of hoot but not. 

Jeb frowned before saying, “That's the noise I heard before Tacks was taken, Cap't.”

I wasn't the only one looking around when I swung back at a cut-off yell. Jeb was struggling in mid-air, his arms and legs flailing, with something long and scaly wrapped around his neck, before he was hoisted out of sight and into the gloom above our heads. I could hear something scrambling up the lattice-work of pipes above us and then nothing.

The pirate captain swore as one of his men fired upwards. “Hold ye fire, ye bilge-rat, ye might hit old Jeb.” He turned to look at me before nodding, “Aye, parley it is.” 

“Becker!” 

I ignored Quinn's hiss as I walked towards the pirate captain, my hand outstretched. “Captain Becker, and these are my men.” I glanced at Quinn before adding, “And that's Quinn.”

The pirate captain glanced between us before something like a smile ghosted across his ruggedly-handsome face for an instant. “I be Gentleman Jack Morgan, Captain of the 'Sea Ghost',” he said as he shook my hand. He turned back to his men and ordered, “Release them and give them back their guns.”

I watched as my men rubbed their wrists, checked their weapons and refused to meet my eyes. Quinn, on the other hand, was far too chirpy for my liking. “Pirates! Becker!”

“Yes, Quinn,” I replied long-sufferingly and wondered if I could convince Lester that more punishment was required, before remembering that I'd probably have to baby-sit him again. 

I caught the speculative look on Morgan's face before another hoot sounded and he asked, “What was that thing?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea, but I do know we're sitting ducks out here.”

“Sitting ducks?” Morgan asked, a puzzled look on his face. 

“Easy targets for it to attack,” Quinn clarified. 

“Aye,” Morgan said, a thoughtful look on his face. “We will return to the ship.”

“What about Jeb?” A fresh-faced pirate asked, fingering the hilt of his cutlass nervously. 

I gripped Vera harder as the pirate crew grew angry, muttering amongst themselves and I recognised mutiny in the making. Unless Morgan acted quickly, he'd lose his position and I had no idea if the other pirates would honour our truce. 

“Shit!” Quinn muttered, obviously coming to the same conclusion I had. “We've got to do something.”

“Wait, Quinn.” I grabbed him before he could step forward. “This is Morgan's fight, not ours.”

“But...” 

“Don't be a fool,” I hissed at Quinn. “We're outnumbered, our only hope is if Morgan talks them around. By himself.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fififolle for the beta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can Danny and Becker join forces with the pirates and survive the creature?

Morgan raised his hand, calling for silence. “Listen well, me hearties. Gentleman Jack Morgan didn't say we be leaving.” It appeared that the crew were at least willing to listen to him. “I says we return to the ship and re-arm. Then we track down this devil-spawned beast and kill it. What says ye?” 

A roar greeted Morgan's words and I breathed again, not realising I'd been holding my breath while he'd spoken. I clapped Quinn on the shoulder before stepping forward. “We should hurry, our people might still live.”

“Aye,” Morgan nodded as he led us onboard his ship. 

The 'Sea Ghost' was far cleaner than I expected, spick-and-span and looking well-put together. I stopped when I realised silence had fallen on the ship and every man in the crew was staring at us. Morgan stepped in front of us, his voice raised as he addressed his crew. “Cast off and lie close. Lookouts, keep a sharp watch for the creature. Boarding parties, arm ye selves for a hunt. And Master Frazier, arm the cannons and shoot the beast if ye sees it.”

I opened my mouth to argue the last point, how the hell would I explain cannon-balls shooting holes in the rig, before remembering that would be Lester's job, not mine. Considering he'd sent me out here babysitting Quinn, it was the least I could do to repay him.

The planning was quick and painless for once, with no regard for health and safety or any other consideration I usually had to put up with. It almost made me long for a life of a pirate, until I remembered their dismal lack of firepower. And tanks, even though Lester still wouldn't let me have one.

I soon found myself back on the oil rig, Vera in one hand and a cutlass in the other. I glanced at my team, my own soldiers, Quinn and a selection of pirates armed with black-powder pistols, cutlasses and boarding axes, standing ready, if not quietly, for my orders. 

I nodded to Morgan and set off into the oil rig, every nerve alert for ambush as I eyed the pipes criss-crossing over my head. “Keep alert,” I instructed my team. “And, gentlemen, remember to verify your target before you fire. We don't want to shoot our own, after all.” I paused and fixed Quinn with a hard stare. “And that goes double for you, Quinn.”

Quinn muttered something I didn't even bother asking him to repeat and we headed deeper into the rig's infrastructure. I jumped at a clanging sound ahead of us and signalled my men to advance – or to be precise, I indicated it to my men and the pirates followed their lead. 

I swallowed when I smelt the stench of blood and other bodily fluids and signalled that everyone should stay here while I investigated. Well, that was my plan, but of course, bloody Quinn didn't listen and followed close behind me. 

“Becker!” Quinn hissed suddenly, moving off to the side and I had little choice but to follow him and watch his back. The sight we found was gruesome and I couldn't even tell if the man had been one of mine or one of Morgan's, the body was too savaged, not to mention lacking several body parts. 

I motioned Quinn forwards, covering him with Vera, and waited for him to check the body for any identification. He cursed softly as he turned the body over and I had to swallow my bile at the faecal stench that rose from the man's gutted belly. “Bloody hell.”

I didn't have time to respond as I noticed a long, thin snake-like creature lower from the pipes above Quinn's head and I charged him, sending both of us crashing to the ground. I rolled onto my back, ignoring the swearing from Quinn, and fired Vera up at where the creature had been. 

“Damn it, Quinn,” I growled at him. “I told you to stay with the others.”

“And let you have all the fun?” Quinn quipped back but I noticed his heart wasn't in it, probably from the near-miss. 

The pirates arrived, closely followed by my nervous-looking men, and I set them to track the creature, as well as one could when it was arboreal and we weren't. 

A half-hour of fruitless hunting later left my team irritated, the nervousness of my men infecting the pirates, and I half expected someone to demand a tea-break, when we all jumped at the boom of a cannon. 

“That's the 'Sea Ghost'',” a pirate declared proudly.

I ordered my team towards the sound, assuming that the pirates were shooting at the creature and not a passing boat, and we soon reached the dock once more, the 'Sea Ghost' a mere 100' from us. I watched in awe as she fired again, the smoke billowing out of her cannon before the shot they used crashed into a pile and wrapped around it. 

“Chain-shot,” the same pirate said. “Supposed to take masts down but just as good against men. Or creatures,” he added.

I nodded, my attention on the piles and pipes as I tried to see what the 'Sea Ghost' was firing at. There! Movement as something larger than a man leaping from pipe to pile and back to pipe. Moving swiftly and surely through the oil rig. I knew we'd never catch it... but maybe we could trap it?

“Back to the ship,” I ordered. 

“Becker?” Quinn didn't look happy with the order, no doubt wanting to do something foolishly reckless. 

“I've got a plan,” I replied. “Can we get your Captain back there too?” I asked one of the pirates.

The man nodded. “Aye, we can signal him.”

***

I waited impatiently on the 'Sea Ghost' for Morgan, noticing Quinn growing increasingly irritating and wondering what had got into him? No doubt because I had spoiled his chance to show-off to the pirates. 

“Ye have a new plan, Captain Becker?” Morgan's voice had me jumping and spinning with Vera in hand. 

“Bloody hell,” I muttered before nodding at his raised eyebrow. “Yes. The creature is too agile for us to find on the rig. We need to draw it into a trap.”

Morgan looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Cooper, bring up the goat.” 

I raised my own eyebrow as the mid-sized, brown haired goat was led onto the deck. What the hell was a goat doing on a pirate ship, Morgan seemed to read my mind as he said, “Fresh milk, Captain Becker.” 

I nodded before turning my attention back to the rig, where would be the best place to ambush the creature? Somewhere the ship could support us, somewhere open enough for us to see the creature coming but closed in enough that it wasn't spooked. 

“There.” 

I looked over at Quinn to see him pointing slightly further along the rig where a crane stood which I assumed had been used to unload supply ships. 

“Perfect,” I said. “Captain?”

“Aye,” Morgan agreed. “Peters, Hicks, Bird, Tomkins, up in the rigging and aim ye muskets at the goat. Smartly there, lads.”

***

In the end the hunt for the creature proved to be anti-climactic. It was drawn to the goat bleating in fear and was hit by several shots. I approached it cautiously, Vera pointing at it, and swore when Quinn just waltz up to it as if it was harmless. It didn't move but I wasn't going to take any chances that it was playing dead and shot it once more just to make sure. The goat bleated once more before making its opinion of being used as bait known to all of us. 

I stared at the creature, it must have been at least eight feet tall with large claws and a long tail. “It looks like some sort of raptor to me.” 

“Didn't look like any bird of prey I've ever seen,” one of the pirates said. 

“Barnaby Jones here is something of a scholar,” Morgan informed us proudly.

***

I found a spot on the back – or aft, as I'd been informed – of the 'Sea Ghost' and watched the victory festivities. Bottles of rum were being passed from hand to hand, along with cuts of roasted raptor. I looked up at a shout and rolled my eyes at Quinn, the daft bugger had apparently challenged one of the pirates to a climbing contest. At least I assumed he had, considering he and a pirate were part way up the rigging as my men and the pirates cheered on their respective challenger. 

A cleared throat behind me almost made me jump and I turned around to find Captain Morgan standing there. He nodded at Quinn and the pirate, “The men need this, Captain Becker.”

“I know,” I told him. “Are you going to try and return home?” I asked him, wondering just what Lester's reaction would be if I showed up with a pirate ship and crew. It would almost be worth it to see his horrified expression, but Morgan and his men deserved to go home.

“Aye,” Morgan said. “Once the Devil's Eye re-opens.” He glanced at the antics of his men and mine before adding, “I've got a fine bottle of brandy in my cabin.”

“Captain...” I began before Morgan shook his head and I sighed, glancing at Quinn and hoping he didn't cause a fight. “Fine, one drink.”

Morgan bowed and waved me towards what I assumed was his cabin. I glanced back just before I entered to see Quinn dangling from the rigging, watching me, watching us, with a strange look on his face.

***

I leaned back in the surprisingly comfortable chair and sipped from a fine crystal glass. “This isn't what I expected from a pirate ship.”

“What did ye expect?” Morgan asked. 

“No disrespect, captain,” I said. “But most of what I know paints pirates as blood-thirsty rogues.” I did consider mentioning the movies, but I had no idea if Pirates of the Caribbean was typical of their fare. 

“Some are,” Morgan agreed. “But I try not to kill when I don't have to.” He seemed pensive for a moment before speaking once more. “Quinn.”

I frowned at him. “What about him?”

“Are ye and he together?” 

“I... him... me?” I stuttered before stumbling to a halt, knowing I was blushing furiously.

“I see,” Morgan said, a wide grin on his face. “Ye should tell him, lad.”

“But I...” I swallowed as I almost stumbled over my words,. 

“He likes ye, lad,” Morgan said, his voice full of conviction. “And ye should grab all the time ye can with those ye love.” 

I stared at Morgan for a moment, his face now stark and stripped bare, allowing me to see the pain and sorrow in his eyes. “I'm sorry for your loss,” I mumbled, uncertain if the sentiment would be welcome. 

“Aye, lad,” Morgan said. “Don't make the same mistake I did.”

“I'll...” I recalled the expression on Quinn's face when I entered Morgan's cabin... maybe he did like me. “I'll think about it.”

“That ye do, lad.” Morgan swallowed his remaining brandy before standing when someone knocked on the door. “Enter.”

A young pirate stood there, barely sixteen I thought, but already hardened by this life. “The lookout's sighted the Devil's Eye, Captain.”

Morgan rose and strolled out of his cabin, bellowing, “Smartly there, lads.” as his crew ran around getting the ship to return home. He stopped and shook my hand once more. “Remember what I said, Captain Becker.”

“I will,” I replied. 

I clambered off the ship along with my men and Quinn, and watched the 'Sea Ghost' sail towards the anomaly I could just make out. I stared at the spot where it had disappeared for several moments, wishing the pirates good luck and a safe journey home. For all I might claim otherwise in my report, this Shout had turned out to be fun – how many people could say they'd swashbuckled with real pirates while fighting dinosaurs? Still, I sobered quickly when I recalled the men I, that we, had lost. 

“OK, Soldier-boy?”

“Don't call me that,” I said, turning to face and him noticing that we were alone. No doubt my men had sneaked off for another tea-break now the danger was over. 

“Our ride's here.” Quinn said, pointing at the helicopter coming in to land on the rig's helipad. 

I nodded, considering him and wondered if I should follow Morgan's advice and just ask him out. “Quinn?”

“Yes, Becks.” It was an answer, not an acknowledgement.

“Yes?” I asked, wondering what he was on about now. 

“You're not the only one Morgan talked to.” Quinn snorted, “For a pirate he was a bloody interfering match-maker.” 

I shook my head at Quinn before I tugged him in for a kiss. His lips moved beneath my own and I felt his hand grip the back of my neck and hold me still as he ravaged my mouth. As much fun as the swashbuckling had been, feeling Quinn's hardness press against my thigh, feeling my own hard cock against his, was far better. I let my hands slide down to grope his arse before a loud cough had us quickly separating.

“Er... boss,” one of the soldiers said, looking anywhere but at us. “The pilot says we need to leave now, there's a storm...” 

“Right,” I replied, refusing to blush at being caught red-handed and started to follow my man. I turned when I realised Quinn hadn't moved. “Coming, Quinn?” 

“Definitely, Soldier-boy.” Quinn grinned back at me. 

“Don't call me Soldier-boy,” I snapped back before realising what Quinn had just said, what I had. I waited for my soldier to hurry away before pressing against Quinn once more, my hand copping a feel. “We'll see,” I murmured before strolling off, making sure to wiggle my arse. 

I was strapped into the helicopter by the time Quinn appeared, looking rather flustered as he took a seat beside me. He leaned over, his breath a whisper on my ear. “I'll need to make a stop at the loos in the heliport, Becks.”

I had to bite back a moan at that thought, shooting him an annoyed look at the thought of the several hours we'd have in this cramped space until then, and had my own revenge. “I imagine you'll need a helping hand.” Oh, the look of arousal in his eyes might make the ride home even worse, but at least I was on a promise.


End file.
